


Sick Episode

by FishPrincess



Series: HSWC 2014 Bonus Round 4 [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishPrincess/pseuds/FishPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sick Episode. One of them gets sick/injured and is stuck in bed for a while. The other takes care of him until he's well again. For HSWC Bonus Round 4. A response to a prompt by doxian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Episode

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doxian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxian/gifts).



“…dude, what are you doing?”

The first thing Dirk sees as he leaves his room in the morning is Dave, standing hunched over in his Midnight Crew boxers, with his head in the refrigerator. Sniffles can be heard from behind the door, and after a moment of confusion and concern, Dirk sees this as his moment to be the Bro he always should have been. At least in the new world they discovered, they had a chance at being some kind of family. While neither of them would ever admit it, they decided it only made sense to move in together.

Being Striders meant that they often didn’t say things straight out, and they usually ended up expressing their opinions on what should go on the shopping list through volatile raps. Although it, in essence, worked, Squarewave became a bit too intimidated and ended up blowing a circuit on more than one occasion.

After standing there in silence, Dave finally responds, voice nasally and cracked. “Just chilling, you know. Like usual.”

“You sound sick.”

“Woah, there, we have intelligent life in this apartment.”

“I don’t think the celery’s going to be too pumped about feasting on your snot.”

“The celery can suck my-“ And he sneezes.

Dirk takes this moment to march over to Dave and put a firm hand on his bare and sweaty shoulder, pulling him toward the couch in the main room. Somehow, Dirk led him just a little too close to the coffee table, and Dave made an unpleasant and loud groan when his toe stubbed against the leg of the table.

“Oh, sorry, bro,” he says apologetically, eyebrows shifting slightly for a moment. “Just lie down. You’re forbidden from doing any shit, like at all.”

“Consider. Shit undone,” Dave says, face buried into the pillow. He looks ridiculous with his sunglasses on, but Dirk assumes he must still have a headache. “I’m going to make you breakfast.”

With a grunt of acknowledgement from Dave, Dirk goes into the kitchen to try and throw together some kind of edible soup. Being raised completely on Doritos and Fanta means that cooking is an entirely new concept for him. Dave had taught him what he knew, but Dirk has no idea how to make soup. Online, he finds an easy enough recipe, and gets to work. If he can build robots, he can make soup.

Once it’s finished, he pours it into a bowl and throws a spoon into it, hurrying a bit too fast to get it to Dave. He doesn’t want it to lose heat, and he needs it to be perfect. Dave hasn’t moved one inch, his face and glasses still shoved against the pillow.

“Hey, bro. Wake up, you need to eat.”

Grumbling, Dave takes a moment but manages to push himself up. He holds his hands out, and Dirk hands him the bowl a bit too quickly and ends up spilling some of it onto Dave before he can realize what is happening.

“SHIT!” Dave yells, and the mistake causes Dirk to frown at his own incompetence.

“Oh, wow, sorry,” he says with regret, hurrying back to get some ice water.

“No, what are you doing?” Dave exclaims before Dirk has a chance to throw it on him. “I’m not on fucking fire. Jesus.”

“Right,” Dirk says, feeling a twinge of self-disappointment within him. All he wants to do is help, and it looks like, so far, he’s just going to make things worse.

“Get me a blanket,” Dave says, suddenly shivering, and Dirk moves to get him one as he eats his soup, throwing it around his shoulders. “Now, sit.”

“Are you sure? I can just go get-“

Dave shakes his head adamantly. “No, you are not fucking moving.”

Dirk sits without another word, and when Dave finishes his soup, he plops back down against the couch and stretches out, his feet lightly against Dirk’s legs. Within seconds, he’s completely passed out.

Maybe Dirk isn’t fucking up as much as he thinks.


End file.
